


the bad days

by iamremy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Dean Winchester is Determined, Episode: s13e02 The Rising Son, Gen, Post-Episode: s13e02 The Rising Son, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is Pure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/iamremy
Summary: Dean overhears a conversation between Sam and Jack as Sam tries to help Jack sleep.





	the bad days

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i thought of this after the first episode but couldn't find the time to write it since it was midterms week. the second episode - while not perfect - just intensified my resolve to write it down. i like the season so far, and i especially adore jack kline and his relationship with sam (and hopefully eventually dean).
> 
> so here you go. short and sweet. hope you like it!
> 
> ~~i can't believe sam and dean adopted a child~~

It’s almost 1 AM and it’s getting late, even by Dean’s standards these days. With a tired sigh he shuts the book he isn’t really reading and puts it back in its place in the bookshelf. He yawns and then stretches, and decides to turn in for the night. Sam left a while earlier, taking Jack with him, and Dean hopes that the kid – thing – whatever he is – is asleep, because Dean really doesn’t have the energy to deal with him.

He passes by Sam’s room on his way to his own and is surprised to find the door ajar and the room empty, bed still made – it looks like Sam’s not been in there at all, which is strange considering he told Dean he was going to bed at least forty-five minutes ago. For a brief moment Dean mentally runs through the list of places Sam could be, and then shortlists the kitchen (maybe he’s feeling hungry), the shooting range (he goes there sometimes to work off steam)… and Jack’s room.

The room they assigned Jack, he reminds himself. They’re keeping him there. It’s not – it’s not _his_ room, he doesn’t belong here with them, in their home.

Dean decides to check that room first. It’s much closer than either the kitchen or the shooting range and so he heads off in that direction, keeping himself alert and ready to – attack, or intervene, or whatever he might be required to do. There’s really no knowing with Jack.

He’s a few feet away from Jack’s room – no, the room Jack is staying on, _not Jack’s room_ – when he stops short, frowning. He can hear the sound of a low voice coming from that direction, easily identifiable as Sam’s – and he’s singing, or humming, or something like that. Dean knows that tune; that song is written into his DNA, and it is a part of him just like his blood and bones, just like his parents and Sam, just like his childhood.

He doesn’t understand.

He edges closer, taking care not to make any sound even though he knows that both Sam and Jack can very easily detect him if they really want to. His brother’s voice grows clearer as he draws closer, until he’s standing by the ajar door, just out of sight of them but able to see and hear them with ease.

Sam is sitting by Jack’s side on his bed, one hand in his lap and the other on the covers, his back to the door so that Dean can’t see his face. He doesn’t have to, though – he knows without looking that Sam is smiling slightly in that way of his, unguarded and genuine, and he is half-singing half-humming _Hey Jude_ to the offspring of Satan, who is looking up at him absolutely enraptured.

Something about the scene in front of Dean tugs at his heart, brings it to his throat, until he has to turn away. This isn’t – this is not right, it doesn’t make sense, none of it does. Sam of all people, he thinks, should understand what it means that his worst tormentor has produced a child even more powerful than him. Sam of all people should know that nothing good can come out of something that came out of Lucifer. Sam of all people should understand that this time, they can’t make any mistakes, they have to be proactive and they need to solve this problem before it even has the chance to become a problem.

But, Dean thinks, almost begrudgingly as he looks back up at his brother, Sam of all people knows what it’s like to be considered evil just because of what’s in his blood. Sam of all people knows that it’s possible to overcome one’s inherent darkness and make something good out of it. Dean knows that that’s the hope Sam is clinging to, that in the end everything that he’s doing means that there is a chance Jack can be saved, can become someone _good_.

On one hand he can’t believe how naïve his brother somehow manages to be sometimes despite everything he’s been through – and on the other, Dean can’t help but marvel at how utterly _good_ he is, in spite of it all. There are days when Dean struggles to get out of bed in the morning just because everything is so fucking bleak and hopeless and _dark_ , and nothing he does will ever be enough to counter it. And yet here’s Sam, who has suffered so much more, and yet still searches for the good in people in lieu of the bad. Dean honestly can’t figure out how he does it.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by Jack’s voice. “What song is that?” the kid – thing – asks, face open and vulnerable as he looks up at Sam.

Sam’s voice is quiet and thoughtful when he replies. “It’s a song my mother used to sing to Dean, and he used to sing it to me. It always helped – helps – me sleep.”

“Even on bad days?” Jack asks, and the question shouldn’t affect Dean as much as it does.

“Especially on bad days,” Sam answers, and Dean doesn’t have to look to know he’s smiling in that way of his, unguarded and genuine. “You – uh, you okay now, Jack?”

The kid considers it for a moment, and then nods. “I think so, yes.”

“Good.” Sam pats at the covers, a little awkwardly, and then stands. “Get some rest, Jack. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Jack replies.

Dean turns away from the door before Sam has a chance to see him, and quietly makes his way back to his room, for the first time thankful that it’s much closer to Jack’s room than Sam’s room is. He manages to close his door a split-second before Sam exits Jack’s room, and leans back against it with a quiet sigh of relief.

And then he hears footsteps on the other side, and tenses when they pause just outside his door.

For a moment he thinks Sam wants to come in, but then there’s the sound of Sam exhaling, and a second later, a soft, “Goodnight, Dean,” and Dean knows Sam was aware that he was being watched, and does not care.

He debates not answering, but what’s the use? Sam sees right through him, always has. So he answers, voice gruff, “Goodnight, Sammy,” and tries not to think too hard about sad, damaged boys with darkness in them, but also – he hopes, he hopes so much for Sam’s sake – but also enough good to at least make the darkness a little less dark.

And if not?

Well.

He’ll do what has to be done, and he’ll look after Sam later. It’s what he’s always done. This time, he’s going to solve the problem before it becomes a problem, and he’s going to do all he can to shield his brother from the fallout.

It’s all he _can_ do.

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a while since i last wrote for spn, so feedback would be so much appreciated! even a kudos if you liked it would make my day honestly.
> 
> love,  
> remy x


End file.
